


One never knows, does one ?

by ClaraZorEl



Category: Carol (2015)
Genre: Carol is trying to be smooth af but really she's freaking out, F/F, First Meetings, I really like that train set, POV Third Person, POV Third Person Limited, This is a birthday present, belivaird, idk how to tag this, this is gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-19 21:35:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17609423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaraZorEl/pseuds/ClaraZorEl
Summary: An insight on Carol's thoughts during their first meeting.





	One never knows, does one ?

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER : This is a work of fanfiction. It is not intended to infringe on any rights by and of the companies and/or individuals involved in the production of any series mentioned here.
> 
> Interupting my usual Supercorp bullshit to post this as a little birthday gift for a friend who shoved me head first into Carol and now I'm obsessed with the movie, the book and the soundtrack (please help me). Happy birthday Naï, the Carol to my Abby
> 
> I'm basing myself on the movie (so any line of dialogue isn't mine) but the idea for this stemed from the fact that in the book the story is told from Therese's perspective and so we never know what Carol is thinking about. This is my first time writing for this fandom so I hope this doesn't suck
> 
> As usual with me (if you're coming here from my other works) the title is from a song, "One never knows, does one ?" by Billie Holiday, it's a cool song you should listen to it

    The streets were bustling with people and activity. Carol usually liked the lead up to Christmas, but today, she felt as if she were caught in a swarm of bugs, and anxiety was nagging her at the back of her head. For a short moment, she considered backtracking and going to find a telephone booth so she could ask Abby to pick her up earlier. But she couldn’t get rid of the feeling that she ought to out do herself this Christmas, and get Rindy the best present possible, or at least better than Harge’s. Nothing else would do for her darling little girl. Carol brushed her hair back, once on either side, and stepped into the flow, letting herself be carried all the way up to Frankensberg’s toy department.  
  
    The store was alive with brisk activity. Children running away from their mothers, mothers running after their children, babies squirming and crying in their parents’ arms, salespersons in quirky Christmas’ hats looking like they would have rather been anywhere else and communicating between themselves with quick hands gestures. All these sounds, voices, paper slips rubbing against hands, people brushing on other people, were bound together by the continuous buzzing of a train set in a display case. Carol stopped for a moment to look at it. The toy engine was dragging toy cars in an ever beginning fascinating loop ; she could have looked at it all day. It abruptly stopped running and Carol realised she had accidentally bumped in a the small red lever commanding the set. She discreetly looked around for anyone who could have witnessed her clumsiness.  
  
    Their eyes met at the same instant, and Carol felt the ambient noise receding to the background, all that existed focusing on that sole girl.  
  
    Her figure was petite, her face dainty, with dark hair protruding from under her Christmas hat. She looked genuine, enticing, and terribly young. She was halfway through hiding a book she must have been reading under the counter, a thrilling detail. To Carol, it felt like time had come to a stop, to give her infinite seconds to drink this girl in. And the girl was starring right back at her, gazing upon Carol as if she were trying to pierce her soul. Until another woman sprung in front of the clerk desk, removing the girl from her sight.  
  
    Without really thinking, her feet doing all the work, Carol went around the train set toward the girl’s counter. After all, she was selling dolls, and Carol was looking for one. - I’m looking for a doll - she started in her head - she’s about this high and… - No. Not, that wouldn’t do. She stopped to rummage through her purse and extracted a piece of paper before resuming her approach to the counter underneath which the girl had ducked to read her book.  
  
    « I wonder if you might help me find this doll for my daughter » Carol said as she slapped her gloves against the countertop.  
  
    The girl took the paper out of her hand and Carol briefly regretted that their skins didn’t make contact for so much as half a second. « Bright Betsy ? Oh, she cries. » The girl broke eye contact before staring right into Carol’s eyes again and adding, « and wets herself. » Carol would have sworn she did it on purpose. « But I’m afraid we’re all out of stock. » She sounded honestly sorry.  
  
    « Oh, I’ve left it too long. » Taken aback by the change in her plan for Rindy's present, Carol nervously started rummaging through her purse again, this time looking for her cigarettes.  
  
    « Well, we have plenty of over dolls. » The salesgirl eagerly stated. « Um, all kind actually. »  
  
    « Right » Carol interrupted slightly defeated before adding : « What was your favourite doll when you were four ? »  
  
    « Me ? » The girl sounded genuinely surprised ; like no one had ever taken the time to ask her for her opinion. « Oh I never. Not many to be honest. »  
  
    Carol absentmindedly lighted her cigarette ; this girl was charmingly strange. « I’m sorry, you’re not allowed to smoke on the sales floor. » Again, she sounded truly contrite.  
  
    Carol let out an impatient groan. « Of all the… » She immediately regretted her outburst. « Forgive me, shopping makes me nervous. »  
  
    « That’s alright. Working here makes me nervous. »  
  
    Carol chuckled at the quick repartee and a dazzling smile spread on the girl’s face. She would have liked for this smile to stay as it was for eternity, but the girl sheepishly looked away when Carol said : « You’re very kind. »  
  
    Desperate to keep the conversation going, Carol took a picture of Rindy out of her purse. It was recent, she had it taken right after the beginning of the divorce procedure ; Rindy was sporting a new fashionable haircut that she had seen in a magazine at Abby’s, it was the same as the salesgirl’s. « Here she is. »  
  
    « Oh she looks like you, around the eyes. » It was the kind of flat comments people are prone to make about other people’s child, but somehow, the way she said it in a gentle voice made it sound true.  
  
    « You think so ? » Carol asked nonetheless. « What did you want when you were this age ? »  
  
    « A train set. » Her answer was as uncommon as she was and a smile, not unlike her previous one, appeared on her face. Carol had to keep her going ; she would have done anything to keep this smile firmly in its place.  
  
    « Really ? Do you know much about train set ? »  
  
    « I do actually, and we just got a new model in last week. It’s hand-built with hand-painted cars. It’s a limited edition of 5.000. You might have seen it on the way in over by the elevators. I would show you but I’m sort of confined to this desk. »  
  
    It was like the girl had come alive before her and Carol decided that she would buy all 5.000 train sets to make her happy. It might have been a bit too much though, so she only said : « Do you ship ? »  
  
    « Special delivery. You could have it in two or three days. They’d even assemble it for you. »  
  
    Carol found herself wishing that the girl herself would come to her house to assemble it, but she knew it was unlikely. « Well, that’s that. Sold. »  
  
    The girl suddenly looked surprised that Carol was actually going to buy the train set ; her face not unlike a baby fawn caught in headlights. It was endearing. « Shall I pay now ? »  
  
    « Oh, yes, of course. » The girl sprung into action and Carol half regretted having said anything.  
  
    « We’ll need your account details and your shipping address. »  
  
    « Of course. » Carol started filling in the form. « I love Christmas. » She added out of the blue, eager to extend an encounter that she was inexorably drawing to a close. « Wrapping presents and all that. And then, somehow, you wind up overcooking the turkey anyway. » The girl remained silent. « Done. » Carol said, tapping the tip of her pen on the notepad.  
  
    She caught herself blatantly staring at the girl and in a last attempt to prolong their meeting asked in what she hoped was her smoothest voice and not an overeager squick : « Where did you learn so much about train sets ? »  
  
    « Oh. I read. Too much probably. » The girl sounded embarrassed and Carol couldn't fathom how one could feel embarrassed about reading too much or how one could read too much.  
  
    « That’s refreshing. » She said, hoping it was comforting.  
  
    The girl handed her her receipt and with too much yet not enough left to express, Carol just said : « Thank you. Merry Christmas. »  
  
    « Merry Christmas. »  
  
    She took a few step away from the counter in a deliberately slow gait then turned around and with a careful smirk whispered : « I like the hat. »  
  
    She could feel the girl's piercing gaze all the way to the elevators but willed herself not to turn around. She failed, and decided to risk one last glance but the girl had already returned to her work, away from her. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of her gloves on the countertop and wheeled around to retrieve them before decided to leave them where they were, like a half discreet half bold open door.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I just can't believe that Carol wouldn't have left her gloves intentionally.


End file.
